Recovery
by Phoenix Puff
Summary: After the war, there is depression, and only the people who love you can help that. Unlikely friends and ghost-like familiar characters will set the record straight. Be warned- this stuff is deep. A series of one-shots or more.
1. DGDT

**Chapter 1- Daphne Greengrass**

A shiver ran down Dean Thomas's spine as a series of agonizing screams echoed along the corridor. He slipped through my bedroom doorway and raised his wand.

_Lumos_.

Rubbing a cold hand over his bleary eyes, he padded along the dark corridor to the last door, from where the noise had emerged.

It wasn't the first time this had happened.

And it wasn't any better, the 15th.

He opened the door to face an elegant purple four poster bed on which a thin woman with pale white skin lay twisted in her sheet, shaking violently. She raised her blonde mane only to fall back onto her chest and eventually rolled over to face the door. Icy grey eyes softened and tears began to roll down her jutting cheekbones and past her aristocratic nose and pointed chin. A whimper fell from her lips and Dean didn't even realise his actions until she fell back into his arms, her head lolling backwards over his shoulder, exhausted.

The Ice Queen of Slytherin, Daphne Greengrass, his _fiancee_ had cracked.

The scar on her forearm glinted in the light of his wand.

_Blood Traitor_.

Instinctively he glanced at his own arm, rubbing his thumb and forefinger over the fading torture mark.

_Mudblood_.

The silence hissed from around them, and the dark-skinned man tightened his arms around his partner- He never wanted to let go.

He had already lost too much.

And that was when they collapsed onto the matress, tear tracks shining in the dim light.

"We need to talk about this." They both thought as they fell.


	2. ATNL

**Chapter 2- Andromeda Tonks**

"Dead..."

"...Heroes..."

"...should be proud..."

"Dead..."

"Baby..."

"...terrible loss..."

"Dead.."

Andromeda stared into the black outside her window as the echoes sounded in her head, she felt the familiar lump in her throat choking her dry mouth.

It appeared not all her tears had dried up after 10 years, after all.

"Loved her like a sister..."

"...best auror..."

"Dead..."

"...mama?...papa?" The last wrenched at her very gut. She heard this whimper every night after she turned off the bedroom light.

Sometimes she wondered how she had made it this far.

But she already knew the answer, inside.

Teddy.

But sometimes it hurt. When he greeted her in the morning by "Wotcher!". When he wore his hair pink, like his mother used to. When he grinned after misbehaving, just like her husband did. When he confided in her about girls, and she knew that it should have been Nymphadora or Remus in her place.

And what hurt the most, was when he caught her grieving.

Disappointment, sympathy.

The last thing she needed.

It always worse after he had been away. That was when she slipped into depression, when she turned the portraits to fax downwards because she just couldn't face it any longer.

But what hurt most was that Teddy would leave soon. And she'd be in an empty house which was crammed full of memories. Sometimes their presence caused her to nearly suffocate.

But she couldn't slip away, she had to push herself.

For her daughter.

For her son-in-law.

For her grandson.

For her husband.

For herself.

She couldn't be weak- she would be the last Black sister.

But she was weak, and frightened, and cowardly, and sorrowful.

But she was strong, stronger than even she knew. For she had seen the darkness and she had turned away to the light. She had changed her fate to one of depression- yet her daughter had lived a happy life.

And if there is anything that could heal Andromeda Tonks, it's seeing her daughter once more.

"Mum..." Andromeda looked up, the voice seemed to come from the stars. "Talk to me." Andromeda' s eyes leaked. It couldn't be, not her daughter.

"Nymphadora." She managed to croak.

"We need to talk about this." The young woman appeared on her windowsill, her face determined and her hair natural. Long black, curly yet translucent.

And that was when Andromeda collapsed from all the weight she had been carrying for the last 10 years.

"Oh crap, we _really _need to talk about this."


	3. GWAJ

**George Weasley + Angelina Johnson**

Angelina opened the door to the London flat and sighed. Firewhiskey and even Dragonball glass bottles were strewn across the floor, most if them smashed. She darted round the glass on her toes, and hesitantly called out-

"George?" There was a quiet grunt from behind one of the matching doors, with the letters F and G.

It still stung, seeing anything to do with Fred. But there was only George, now, and she owed it to his brother.

She twisted the handle, but it wouldn't turn and so she rapped hard on the door.

"Don't make me get my wand out, Weasley." She said sharply, and could almost hear his sad grin from the other side.

"I'm not scared of you, Johnson." He replied weakly.

"You should be." She taunted, but they both sounded wounded and empty.

Eventually, she heard a creak and he opened the door. He was a mess.

His ginger hair was greasy and dangled over his eyes, flecked with grime. Eyes bloodshot, skin pale and lips cracked and dressed in a baggy stripey pajama set.

"What have you done to yourself, George?" He doesn't reply to her whisper and looks away, ashamed.

"You shouldn't have come, Angie."

"Don't give me that." She snapped and then her expression softened. The dark-skinned woman caressed his cheek lightly. "I'm cleaning you up, and you can't stop me." For t he didn't fight, but allowed her to lead him into the bathroom.

20 minutes later, and they're sat down in a clean kitchen, trying to find a topic other than Fred.

"Are you going to start up the joke shop, again?" George swallowed thickly.

"I want to, but with Fred gone..."

"He'd want you to get out, George." She tried, tried to be sympathetic.

"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" He shouted, as his heart started to ache harder. He was angry, broken and the issue was that she was right. But it didn't make it any better. Somehow she restrained him and grabbed his hands with her own.

"No. No, I don't. Because I never had what you had. But, God, I still loved him. I love both of you! And I can't cope sometimes. I have a photo of us at the Yule Ball by my bed, and sometimes I hold it and I just cry. For the day, the night. The weekend." That's when George looked at her. He saw the bags hanging from her red eyes that were now dripping tears. He saw how hasty, her usually perfect ponytail was and that's when he heard him.

"_I give you my consent, Forge._" And he smashed his lips on hers.

"Don't...You...think...We should...talk about... this?" She panted once he'd let go before thinking, _Sod It_, and kissing him as hard as she could.

In George's fuzzy brain from Angelina' s snog, he's pretty sure he heard his brother cheer and shout "_Two birds with one stone, Tonks._"


End file.
